Only Words
by Tega Drake
Summary: Various drabbles from various prompts. All from "Words Meet Wings" on LiveJournal. Varying lengths, varying topics, varying characters, varying ratings. Mostly Gen, maybe pairings later when I write more. I'm not much of a writer.
1. Moments

Title: Moments

Rating: PG (for that one bit of swearing)

Characters/Pairings: John, Dean

Prompt: #7: John/Dean - Lock&Load

Spoilers: Um, none outside of season 1, if any.

Word count: 441

Warnings: Like I said, a bit of swearing?

Summary: It's these moments that Dean remembers the most.

Notes: I seriously have no idea where the hell this came from. I know this is kinda random sappy crap, and that it's probably as coherent as I usually am, so please be gentle?

* * *

John, he knows, rarely shows any other emotion besides focus when it comes to the hunt. When they're chasing after a lead on Mary's death, he becomes relentless in his pursuit. Dean can barely talk him into eating during the chase. When they're just hunting the usual, Dean can almost see the Marine taking charge and executing the plan.

As a child, this was his Superman. This was his superior, his commander, his hero. This is the man who he would follow to the letter, no questions asked. The one who taught him how to care for his weapons, to care for his transportation, how to keep himself alive and off the radar.

Dean hands one of the weapons to his father. John takes it without a word, releases the lock on the magazine and removes it, before tapping it once on the grip and sliding it back in. A nervous twitch Dean's learned he does only on the job when he's thinking about what could go wrong.

Granted, he has every reason to be thinking of what can go wrong. Hunting will never be completely safe. No matter how well-prepared they are when they go in, the target can always prove itself to be one step ahead. Seeing the man in front of him, resolute against the threat of surprise, however, eases Dean's nervousness. His Superman is strong, is sure of their success. He can't help but be reassured by that strength.

It's moments like these. The resounding swish-click of a magazine into a handgun. The sharp noise of a bullet loaded into the chamber. The silent nod of his father, telling him they're ready to hunt.

This is ultimately what he always thinks of when remembering his father. The man pressed up against the wall next to him, checking his weapon to reassure himself it won't jam when he needs it most. The profile made of sharp angels and covered in the beginnings of a beard. Eyes that have a hawk-like focus on the task at hand, only sparing a glance to make sure his backup is following close behind. Dean knows he'll always be the one backing his father up, always be the one following the orders when it comes to his dad. But that doesn't matter. It's never mattered.

The moments of understanding, of trust, of knowing the plan like the workings of their tools; that's his favorite part of the family business. John barely smiles, equivalent to saying "Bastard's going down", before his expression hardens into the kind of focus only obtained from being a soldier. Dean's expression mirrors that focus as they begin their entrance.


	2. Recall

Title: Recall

Rating: PG

Characters/Pairings: John, mentions of Sam, Dean, Mary, and Azaziel

Prompt: 15 - Recall

Spoilers: Beginning of Season 2, and flickers of Season 4 and Season 5. Nothing too big

Word count: 574

Warnings: Angst, stream-of-consciousness narration, character death

Summary: The jumbled mess of his brain reminds him of all that came beforehand

Notes: I'm terrible at remembering to do things on time. And something about John makes me go sappy? I don't know.

* * *

John Winchester remembers the birth of both of his sons. He remembers holding Dean and looking out the window to see the afternoon turn white. He remembers the morning hues in the spring sky painting Sam in orange. He can remember Dean's first steps, his first word, the first time he caught the football thrown to him.

He remembers everything about Mary.

He remembers her golden-blonde hair, he remembers her laughter, he remembers her love, her happiness, her sadness, her stubbornness, her fiery spirit, when she was pregnant with Dean, with Sam, their arguments, their apologies, her smile.

Dean always had Mary's smile. The smile that reached her eyes and lit her whole face in mirth. He remembers being greeted to their shared smile after a long day's work, and thinking it was all worth it. Sam had a different way to show his happiness back then; it was equally uplifting. He remembers Sam's inqusitive eyes, and how they took in everything like Mary's did.

He remembers seeing Mary's face twisted in fear and agony, bleeding from the wound on her stomach. Pinned to the ceiling by an invisible force, in a grotesque parody of an insect on display. He remembers how the fire enveloped her corpse.

Since then, her smile is a rarity. The times he managed to see it were treasures he kept close to his heart. Close, and protected by a gruff Marine exterior.

He remembers watching Sam grow up as they traveled from hunt to hunt. He remembers seeing him grow in leaps and bounds, since he was gone so much of that time. Knows that pushing Dean to raise his own brother was almost too much. Remembers that "protect Sam" was the one order Dean would never dare forget. Knows he screwed them up; made them unhealthily codependent. Remembers thinking he would make it up to them as soon as he found the thing that killed Mary. Remembers thinking he would let them have a real childhood.

Years passed.

Sam grew up, grew rebellious. John only remembered him as a child; his son, who he had to protect from the creatures lurking in the dark. They clashed, they argued, he remembers all too well when Sam wanted to go to college.

Remembers saying "You walk through that door, you don't ever come back."

Remembers how Dean tried to convince him to go after Sam, to apologize. He was just as stubborn as his son. Remembers how Dean tried to call Sam now and again as the years passed. He would still check on him; drove to see how he was doing in a normal life.

So many things to recall, so little time. He knows now what people mean by "life flashing before your eyes". He can see the memories passing by as he walks back to his hospital room. They're jumbled; playing out of order in his resigned panic.

The memory of the deal they struck passes through his mind as he sets the gun on the table. He turns around, and is faced with those eyes. One more memory of Mary; how she smiled shyly on their first date. One more memory of Dean; his shocked expression as John tells him one last order. One more memory of Sam; smiling, relieved, that his family is going to be alright. That's all he gets before his soul is taken down, further down than he can keep track of.


	3. What Cannot Be

Title: What Cannot Be

Rating: PG (I think)

Characters/Pairings: Jimmy, Amelia, mentions of Castiel, mentioning Jimmy/Amelia

Prompt: 15: Jimmy/Amelia - No way to explain

Spoilers: 4.20

Word count: 517

Warnings: Um, raging Jimmy?

Summary: What happens when you're stuck with nothing but time to think about the past?

Notes: Jimmy 1st person POV. This one ran away with me, but it's been particularly hard for me to sit down and do ANYTHING creative. Making the words happen was like pulling teeth.

* * *

Castiel would whisper to me, saying that it was my destiny, that I was chosen, that I would help save the world. God had chosen me.

Every time, though, when I tried to tell her this... she would be on the edge of tears. At the time, I didn't understand why. I was chosen by God to help His angels. It was an honor that most only dreamed of having. And we were both loyal to God. I would kiss her each night; try to assure her that this was a good thing. Try to keep her from breaking apart. And every time, she would come back in the morning with more insistence that I take the medication that wouldn't keep an angel from whispering to me.

It barely took any time before she was threatening to take Claire and leave. Took me less time to walk out and beg Castiel to keep my family safe if I said I would be his vessel. At the time, all I could think was "if I'm gonna lose them, I might as well realize my destiny".

I had a lot of time to think about the situation. A lot of time to figure out why she was crying. I had time to grow bitter, hungry, restless. I felt like I was trapped in a void for eternity. I'd only get glimpses of what was going on, so I didn't have much to distract me. I began wishing she was right; I began wishing I had just been hallucinating. I realized that while she believed in God, it wasn't as important to her as her family was. That my increasingly "eccentric" behavior was going to destroy her home. For the first time in a long time, I realized that my family was more important than my faith. It was always more important. I love Amelia, I love Claire. I was missing out on life with them, I was missing being a father to my daughter, I was missing being a loving husband.

I was promised that my consent would change the world. I was promised that my family would be safe. But I didn't want either of those things. I wanted to be with them. I wanted to tell Amelia that she managed to get through to me, even without the words. There weren't words that could make me realize what she was telling me; I had to realize it for myself. The understanding had to come from my own mind.

I was late in realizing that.

Too late, too late, much too late.

And there was no way for me to ever tell her that I finally understood. We're back where we started, except I can't even make an attempt at trying. Began to regret ever listening to the angels, to Castiel. Began mourning the loss of my freedom. Missed eating, missed being whole all the time, missed my job of all things.

Missed Claire and Amelia the most. Missed family, companionship, missed normal.

Want it back. And there's no way to tell the angel that I want out.


	4. We Could Be Heroes

Title: We Could Be Heroes

Rating: PG

Characters/Pairings: Sam, Dean (maybe possibly together if you have slash goggles attached to your face, I dunno), mentions of John.

Prompt: Week 2, prompt 2. Sam/Dean – We'll be a family again.

Spoilers: some vague season 4 or 5 ones, nothing really specific. Maybe a little from the very beginning of the show, and from season 3.

Word count: 1024

Warnings: ANGST, the brothers being brotherly, very wordy descriptions possibly. Also, not canon-compliant in any sense of the word.

Summary: Dean's been traveling the road since the Apocalypse was averted.

Notes: Title is unrelated. I think I may be a little insane. Or just depressed, I dunno. My head hurts, and I wanted to feel like I was doing something. I can't think right now. I guess Supernatural drags out the fledgling writer my sister enables.

* * *

Dean's been traveling the road since the Apocalypse was averted. He tells Sam it's itchy feet; he needs to be traveling, he can't settle down, there's still evil to be hunted, there's still purpose out there. Sam doesn't want any more of it. He didn't go back to college after all that happened in between, but he didn't keep going. Somewhere, down in the depths of himself he doesn't mention to anyone, Dean's a little sad that Sam isn't with him anymore. They'll always be brothers; Sam calls every now and again, while Dean visits at the reasonably nice apartment Sam's living in. Both know it's not the same.

"Dean, I know you think hunting is your life's calling, but seriously. You can't keep it up until you're dead."

"That's the point. I hunt until some evil sonofabitch ganks me."

"It's not how it has to be." Usually, the tone in his little brother's voice at those words makes him hang up. There's always a different reason for why, but it keeps either one from talking to the other for weeks at a time. Each time, he fights down the instinct to call his brother back. Each time, he refuses to give in to what he knows he should do.

This time, he thinks, this time I'll call him back. This time, I'll apologize. His finger will always call up the redial menu, he always lets the cursor hover over his brother's new number. And he shuts his phone every time. His thoughts race as he speeds down the backroads. Memories of his baby brother and how he used to protect the kid without fail. It's not too long before he remembers that he hasn't needed to protect Sammy for a long time now.

"Dean, I'm sorry about last week. I know you hate me saying that, even though it's true. I just wanna look out for you like you did for me my whole life, man. Look, it's not like there aren't other hunters out there, why can't you at least take a vacation for a while? I-"

Beeeeeeeeep. End of message.

Messages like this pile up in his phone as time goes on. Dean saves them all. There's something underneath the words that he doesn't want to admit exists, but knows is there. Sam never says it outright, but they've lived too long together to hide much. Dean will always pull a u-turn from where he is and drive back. Will park nearby, walk down the road, up the steps, and knock on his brother's door. He knows when Sam is going to be home, so he's never been left waiting long. They talk, in their usual way, and for the most part make up for whatever they were fighting about.

This time, Sam surprises him. Throws the door open almost violently and stares down at him, a mix of sadness and love in his eyes.

"We could be a family again."

The words, spoken out loud at last, make Dean sigh heavily. "Neither of us have a family anymore. You know we can't go back to the way it was, or the way it should be."

"Why not, Dean? Seriously, why not?" There's anger, regret, loneliness, and probably a hint of that steadfast love wrapped up in his voice. Dean doesn't have an answer to the question. Too much history between them keeps him from saying anything. His baby brother, from the moment his father put him in his arms and told him to run out of their previous life, had all of everything Dean was.

"There's nothing else I can give ya, Sammy. You already have it all."

"It's not about that! Why can't you just... I don't wanna turn on the news one day and find out you've died on a hunt."

"If it ends like that, then..." He shrugged. Long before this moment, Dean was ready to die on the job. Long before Hell, before the witches, before the car crash, and even before the heart attack. It was inevitable that he'd bite off more than he could chew; hell, it's happened more than once already. "You know how it is."

"It doesn't have..." Sam trails off. It's been a long time since he's faced down this sort of perpetual worthlessness loop Dean always finds himself in. "Why do you do this? Why do you have to be so..."

"So what?" Dean knows his voice sounds like he's ready for a fight, like he's about to punch Sam in the face for whatever that sentence is implying. He wants to take it back, but he's too hurt.

"Why do you have to be so ready to break this? Break connections, break yourself, break me."

And Dean doesn't have an answer for that. He wants to say he wishes he could just pretend his life never happened the way it has. That he could act like the world was like how it was when he was captured by the djinni, but he can't. It's been too much, and he's not Atlas carrying the world on his shoulders. He broke long ago, Sam's right about that.

"All I had was you, y'know." He almost-whispers. "You broke that. One too many burdens for me to carry, and everything went downhill from there. I'm not gonna stop, pretend that I can live a normal... Normal, safe, pointless life." There's nothing more for him to say, so he walks away. He can hear Sam calling him back, shouting for him to turn around and try to work this out again, but he doesn't obey. He can hear Sam's footsteps as he chases after, which means they're both running at this point. Thing is, Dean doesn't remember what purpose running will serve. Only that the methodical pounding of his feet is almost as soothing as the grumble of his baby's engine.

He's in and out of town before he realizes that he's not looking at the road in front of him. That he's not looking at anything, but remembering that Christmas where he knew they would stick together against all the bad times.


	5. This Time

Title: This Time

Rating: PG

Characters/Pairings: Castiel, Impala, mentions of Dean, Sam, Lisa, Ben, Bobby, and Dean/Castiel

Prompt: Week 5, prompt 1. Dean/Castiel – This time it'll play out right.

Spoilers: Season 6 ones

Word count: 1131

Warnings: semicanon, angst, lots of Castiel thinking

Summary: Castiel hadn't appreciated Time until he lost access to the Host.

* * *

Time wasn't the same for an angel as it was for a human. And Time was a very fickle thing to map out, on top of that. Castiel hadn't appreciated that until he lost access to the Host, and had to take the Winchesters back to their parents. He remained unconscious throughout that excursion, and for several hours after his return. After that, he realized that flying through Time without the guidance of his Father, or other angels was a far more challenging endeavor.

But when God brought him back, at the end of the Apocalypse, he hadn't realized that there would still be no guidance from Heaven. It took him a long time to realize that his journey from Heaven to Earth was far more challenging than they had initially been.

It started after the war in Heaven was brought up. Raphael had proved more powerful than Castiel, even with his renewed and bettered Grace. He closed his eyes, and went to Dean. He wasn't sure if he wanted to warn him, or beg his help to save the world one last time, just that he needed to see the Hunter. His intention had been to see him after the night he ate dinner with Lisa and her son, but he landed months after that. Dean was raking the leaves out of the yard, looking peaceful at the least. Castiel kept himself cloaked from his human's senses, in the end, because he had no right taking more from Dean than he already had.

Crowley approached him, and their deal was made.

It wasn't the last time he jumped through Time wildly as he left Heaven for Earth. Without Dean's voice to guide him to the right point, he landed anywhere in his timeline. Sam's, as well, but it would be honest to say that Dean caught his eye first.

Each timeline was new, and different, depending on the choices that had been made in the Winchester boys' present. Several times, Castiel was with Dean. They were Hunters together, or living in a legitimate house together. Once, they were just wanderers. Sam was sometimes with Dean, sometimes not. Every now and again, Castiel saw them as old men. Weary of war, content in their brother's presence, still fighting the fight, as they were born to do. Not every potential future was happy. Dean lost Sam through death, or sickness, or because the strain of their tragedy was too much. Sam lost Dean, though never because Dean left willingly. Castiel was sometimes there to comfort and guide the remaining brother, and sometimes he wasn't. He watched as Dean cried over his brother's body, once. His time twin was nowhere to be found.

On days where he saw the potential ends such as that, Castiel decided he didn't want to suffer Time's whims, and focused on guiding himself back to the proper time more than he had been. He focused more on winning the war, for Dean and Sam's sake.

Once, just once, he saw a Christmas spent with all of them. Dean's remaining family; Bobby was pouring Castiel eggnog, Lisa was laughing at something Sam said, Ben was playing with some new toy he'd gotten from the morning's spoils. Dean looked at them all, overwhelmed that he had them all. Castiel handed Dean the glass of eggnog, and Dean looked into it for a while before reaching up and kissing Castiel softly. His eyes widened at that, at how natural it seemed to be. His time twin didn't have the same surprise. Or if he did, he was more concerned with kissing Dean back, because they both needed it. Time stopped for Castiel, as he watched them. Profound bond or no, he never considered that Dean would want to kiss him, or be kissed by him.

He left that timeline soon after, happy for Dean but upset for some reason he was unsure of.

At the root of it, Castiel didn't mind not controlling where he landed. Most of it was good, and he wanted to see his charges happy. Even if it was merely a potential future. When he landed in a field, on a gray Thursday morning, he was only marginally confused. He usually landed near Dean and Sam, and he could not see them this time. But the reason why became apparently almost immediately.

He stood in the center of a graveyard.

Slowly, Castiel walked through the near rows, looking for familiar names. He found neither Dean nor Sam's headstones, and it confused him all the more. But he sensed a whisper, calling his very Grace, and he turned to see a tree growing out of a very familiar beloved car. As if possessed, he walked toward the frankly obvious display, and reached out to touch the bark. And pulled it back immediately, because he was touching his Grace. The tree growing out of his Winchesters' Impala was _his_ Grace. His eyes widened, substantially, and he looked at it again. The car's frame was rusting, but not very much. There were scratches in the paint, and along the places where the tree had grown through the hood. Some people had vandalized it, in the passing years. When Castiel reached out to touch the bark again, his Grace told him that the car had been there for a long time. And that he still looked after his humans, which was why the car hadn't been long-since removed. Dean called them Team Free Will, a long time ago. He wondered if he ripped out his Grace when the two weary Hunters died, and planted it there to make a grave for the unsung heroes. For Dean, and Sam. He wondered if Jimmy ever got to see his family, after Castiel left himself there at the end of their road. Or perhaps he was too overwhelmed by grief, and he pulled his Grace out without leaving the poor man. Regardless of what happened, it was long in the past for the tired old tree.

It was only a potential future, and whatever Castiel did or did not do wouldn't matter. That didn't stop him from touching the wounded Impala and bringing her back to her old shine. He wouldn't remove the tree, _himself_, from her hood, but he had a feeling that she was alright with that. As long as the imperfections granted by the Winchesters remained, she didn't mind having Castiel interrupting her usual beauty.

He smiled to himself, just a bit, when he realized he was thinking of the Impala as _her_. Like Dean would. But his heart was burdened by their passing, even in a potential future. Dean called him, in his prayers, and Castiel closed his eyes to follow the sensation back to his time, and his charges.


End file.
